Rise
by tinkerbell265
Summary: Connor Kenway was alone, until Aveline de Grandpre walked into his life. Lemon One-Shot


Hey guys!

So this was sort of a practice run for my other story. I've never done a "lemon" before and wanted to start here in this one shot rather than botching up my other story with something totally crappy.

Also... for you people who have played Assassins Creed 3, may I just say how jealous I am! OH MY WORD! I haven't played yet because I don't wanna drop sixty bucks on it – I'm holding out for Christmas, along with Halo 4. Anyway, the point is, if this story isn't accurate to the game, that's why. And I do apologise. I'm just sorta going off the stuff that I DO know and THINK I know about the game, which is tricky seeing as how I don't want to spoil anything for myself.

I'm pretty much a Connorline fan so if this couple bothers you, maybe you should leave. =/

I know a lot of people are against this ship, but if you think about it, the couple is sorta cute in an assassin sort of way.

Here it is!

**Rise**

* * *

_When Conner Kenway was a child, still living in Mohawk Valley with his mother – when he was still called by his birth name, Ratonhnhake:ton, he was nothing more than a boy. His only concers during that peaceful time, was learning to hunt, playing with the other children in his village, and of course, being sure not anger his mother. It was a time of unshaken serenity – the calm before the storm in his life._

_Bored, a young boy came to his hut, exclaiming the fact that he, along with the other boys his age, had nothing to do and wanted Connor to play with them. And so, he did, following the other children outside the wooden staked walls, serving as a barrier to their world, and carefully making sure to obey the instructions his mother gave him before he left._

_Do not leave the valley…_

_After reaching their destination near the Village, Ratonhnhake:ton, Connor, asked in his native tongue, "What will we play?"_

"_Hide and seek?" One of the boys replied before pitching foreward to take a few broken twigs of the ground. He held them out to his friends and said, "Draw."_

_Each child took turns taking a single stick from the boy's hands until it was Connors turn to do so. They each looked around, noting the length of each that had been drawn before looking to Connor's, who undoubtedly and unfortunately had taken up the shortest of the bunch._

"_You're it!" His friend said before turning to run with the other boys in order to hide._

_Connor took in a deep breath, looking around as they went their separate ways before turning and placing his wrist against the nearest sturdy tree to burying his forehead in the crook of his elbow. "One, Two, Three, Four…" And he continued until, at length, he'd reached the end. "… One hundred!"_

_Slowly he turned, and looked through the tree's for any signs of his friends but as children of the Mohawk tribe, he was sure they would be well hidden. So, he started to walk keeping his eyes trained to the ground as to track them like he would any animal. Hide and Seek wasn't just a game to these children, it was a practice of life skills they would need in the near future. Picking up the trail to one of his friends , he scurried up the hill, crouching to the ground every so often after seeing a footprint or a twig that had been carelessly snapped and pushed into the ground as if one of the boys had feet of iron._

_He found one, then two more, and finally he tracked the forth before making their way back to the tree Connor had previously been left to count against._

"_Let's play again." The same boy stated, as this was his favorite game. He leaned forward a took the same few stick off the ground for the children to repeat their draw but only this time it was he, who was left to count and not, Connor._

"_You're turn!" Connor exclaimed proudly. He was excited to hide because he knew he was good at it._

_He quickly turned and ran into the forest, being sure to keep his ears strained for the seekers voice, "One, two, three, four…"_

_The numbers echoed through the woods as the children fled in opposite directions._

"… _Fifteen, sixteen, seventeen." Then finally the voice had faded away._

_Connor had run from earshot after hearing 'Twenty-Two, knowing he should have at least stayed near the village, but he continued, determined to win, barreling through the woods like a frightened doe before finally, taking up a position against a tree he could easily climb up if he was close to being found. So he crouched, and waited, knowing full well that he wouldn't be found._

_A good half hour had passed before his guard had dropped and he had slumped against the trunk of his hiding place, just staring in the direction from which he had come, now hoping to be found so that he may at least suggest a different game. There was and eerie silence among him, no birds, no wind, just flat out silence as if he were the only one left in the world. Even though such an oddity would have startled his elders, and sent them into the realm of suspicion, the lull in fact made him feel calm. He liked being alone. It wasn't so much that he hated being around others, he didn't, but he certainly didn't mind being alone. It was peaceful._

_That is, until, the sharp, heavy thud of footfall, crashing through the forest debris caught his attention. Jerking his head the right, from which the sound had come, he realized he __**wasn't**__ alone. A flash of crimson crossed his line of sight and suddenly he was grabbed by a man clad in red before being sluggishly tossed at the feet of another. The boy groaned and looked up only to be met with the barrel of a rifle held inches from his face._

"_What have we here?" The stranger asked maliciously._

_Connor knew the language of the outsiders, his mother had practically beaten the tongue into his brain for reasons that were beyond him seeing as how he never intended to speak to any of the pale faced creatures but now, he was grateful… He quickly jumped up and ran the opposite direction, as if he thought he could outrun the musket's fire. But instead of hearing the thundering shot, as he knew he would, a third man stepped from the trees and held his leg in the line of Connor's footfall, sending him to collide with the ground yet again. He laid quietly for a moment, breathing slowly, trying to form an escape route together. He knew these woods better than they, but it didn't matter, what with the rife. Sure he could outrun them, but the musket, not so much._

_Suddenly, the man who previously held the rifle gripped Connor by the shoulder and rolled him to his back, stating, "You look… __**Familiar**__. Where have I seen you before?" There was almost kindness in his voice but it didn't matter._

_Connor had heard the stories of land being taken from his people, the kidnappings, and raids – there was nothing friendly about him. He glared at this outsider, hovering over him like a wolf readying to make the kill. His stele blue eyes were cold and dark and the thick facial hair on his top lip looked more like teeth, ready to bear down on him. So, Connor lathered up his saliva and spit in the man's face…_

_The outsider touched the slick dribble the child had bestowed upon him and started with a controlled tone, "That wasn't very nice…"_

_He quickly took up Connor's wrist and dragged him away._

"_Let me go!"_

"_Listen to that, he knows English!" One of the men called._

"_Smart for a savage." Said the man still dragging Connor through the dirt, trying in vain to pin the child, but with his flailing limbs, there wasn't much to be done. Finally he was ripped from ground and pinned to a tree, with a hand affixed threatenly to the base of his throat. "Spirited too!" Once the boy had calmed, he continued, "We have… questions for your elders. Only tell us where your village is, boy, and you can go."_

"_Best do as he asks, child." Said the red-coated man._

_But Connor was distracted by the ever tightening grip on his throat, "I could snap your neck, you know?" He growled maliciously as he held the boy in place. "A little more pressure and POP! The sad little flame of your life, extinguished. You are a nothing. A speck of dust. You, and all your ilk, living in the dirt like animals, oblivious to the true ways of the world. The wiser among you recognize the shape of the future. They throw themselves at our feet and beg mercy." He snarled. "But not you it seems. No… You cling desperately to your ways. Too ignorant to know your folly. But I am not unkind." He finalized as he released Connor giving him the ability to breath yet again. The boy dropped to the ground gasping for air as he listened to the man before him. "And so I spare you…" he continued, turning to pace through the leaves, "So that you may carry word to your people. Let them know the sooner we are given what we seek, the sooner you can return to your pathetic, empty, lives. A fair trade is it not?" He asked turning to the boy, glowering over him._

_But Connor sat up and stared him in the eye, "What… Is your name?" He asked slowly yet with determination._

_The man pitched forward and chuckled darkly, staring at the child with amusement. "Charles Lee. Why do you ask?"_

"_So I can find you." Connor growled._

"_I look forward to it…" Lee replied, before walking away and motioning his drones to follow. But instead of doing as asked, the red-coated man turned to the boy and smacked the butt of his rifle to the child's temple, knocking him unconscious._

* * *

Connor shot upright, his breath labored, a cold sweat rolling down his spine, and placed his head in his hands. Even after years of searching for the man responsible for the death of his mother, Kaniehti:io, this villain – his face, his voice, and those malicious blue eyes were freshly tattooed in his mind like the memory of a nightmare. In fact it _was_ a nightmare. Only the butt of that rifle had awakened him from his terror as it had done for the year's worth of bad dreams throughout his life.

He was _alone_… He was an Assassin.

"You do that often, you know… It's as if you are a wolf, growling in your sleep." An effeminate French based accent filled his ears and suddenly he realized he wasn't as _alone_ as he had believed.

Pulling his face from his hands he turned to see Aveline de Grandpre sitting on the lowered branch of a tree, with her back resting against the trunk, and her leg swinging back and forth as it dangled idly. Somehow she reminded him of a cat flicking her tail but he didn't smirk at the thought, he had already been caught in his weakest state in front of her – having childish nightmares and refused to condemn himself further by _smiling_.

"Was it another nightmare?"

Connor grunted in response and leaned forward while tucking his legs to sit crisscross along the cold ground. He never liked talking about his personal life – his past, not with _her_. What with her being the hellcat that she was. She was strong-willed, hard headed and completely irrational at times.

"I seek liberty and freedom, not for myself, but for those whom such fundamental rights are denied. I am their shield, their sword, their only hope." She started as she hopped down from her perch with a loud _thud_ and neared Connor. "The roads I travel are dark, but they bring me closer to the light. You and I are both Assassins, we _both_ see these paths – we see the light and the dark. I also see _your_ light and _your_ dark as you see _mine_." She finished as she sat next to him.

With a sigh, his eyes found the hot, dying, embers of the fire he had built just before dusk and said, "I'm torn. Part of me wants to fight, and repel all outsiders. The other part of me _is_ the outsider."

Connors eyes snapped onto Aveline to gauge her reaction. Normally, he was quiet, stoic, and closed but the fact that he had opened up, forcing his comrade to blink in surprise. This wasn't like him.

"My mother was born on this land, but my father, Haytham Kenway, is a British soldier and Templar. I'm half the outsider, therefore how can I attain justice against the enemies in my land if I am also one of them."

"You're as native to this land as I am, Connor." She said as she removed the seaworthy hat from her head, revealing her dark hair, and allowing the multiple arrays of soft braids to fan around her shoulders. "You and I fight the tyranny that destroys those who live here. Does that not make us one of the people?"

He turned to her, seeing her warm brown eyes glint between the moonlight and fire, wondering why she was even here. With him. Tonight. "Where are you heading?" He asked, changing the subject.

"I'll return to New Orleans. It's my home."

"Then… I wish you luck."

"And I wish you sweet dreams."

"Thank you. But I doubt I'll have them." He replied honestly.

"Tell me, Connor. What is it that haunts you?"

"Why do you want to know?" He asked rather sharply, not bothering to hide the hostility in his tone. "_Pity_?"

"_Curiosity_." She corrected.

"It is _my_ business. Not yours."

"Very well." She stated as she stood, brushing the dirt from her fitted pants and replacing the hat on her head. "Adieu Connor Kenway. Jusqu'à notre prochaine rencontre."

He cocked his head a bit at her words, not understanding her one bit. The only languages he spoke happened to be English, the language of his father, and Mohawk, the native language of his people. Therefore, French was not among them. Although he assumed she had bid him some form of goodbye.

This was it. She was going back to New Oleans and his chances for seeing her again were slight. What did he have to lose? So without thinking he said, "I dream of the day my village was burned to the ground."

Aveline stopped in her tracks and turned to the Native-American to see his dusky, brown eyes boring into her. "And it haunts you…" she stated.

"Charles Lee, the man responsible for the attack, left me in the forest, unconscious – he said he wanted me to bring a message back to my people. He sought the Apple of Eden." His fist clenched and his jaw set. "When I woke, I returned to my village to see it in flames. I couldn't… I _didn't_ save my mother. It's my fault. Her death lies on my shoulders."

"Absurdité." She muttered under her breath. "You were a _boy_ – not the man you are today. Had you been there, you would have been killed along with the other children of your people."

"_I could have stopped them_." He snarled.

"_You would have died_."

"_That's not true_."

"It is." She affirmed earning a glare from her comrade before lowering herself next to him yet again. "Connor, the events of our pasts have shaped us into what we are today. Had I not stumbled upon that slave auction – had I not met Agate, my mentor – I would not be where I am now. Your mother's death was _not_ your fault. Had you been there during the raid on your village, you would not have been here today – you wouldn't be _who_ you are today."

"_And who am I_?" He murmured bitterly, starring at the ground below and folding his hands in the lap.

"You are Ratonhnhake:ton, the son of a Templar and a native. You are the light that shines in the darkness and a hero to those you protect."

"That is not how _they_ see me."

"Who are _they_?"

"The outsiders – the pale faces. They see me as a _savage_."

"_They_ are not important. What matters is how _you_ see yourself." She said while smiling and reaching her hand to his lap in order to grasp one of his. "You and I are similar. I know you feel torn in this land, as do I, but… _You're_ _not_ _alone_."

Connor glanced to her for a moment. She was right. He wasn't alone. Not anymore… Both he and Aveline had been allies in battle, as they held the same creed – the Assassins Creed, she _knew_ him. He gave a light squeeze to her hand, being sure not make eye contact with her to avoid any discomfort that was sure to follow their conversation, and waited for her to pull away.

But she didn't.

Aveline kept her hand in his for a few moments longer, relishing in the feel of his strong calloused fingers. She'd fought with him, seen how he kills and knew his strategies. He was a Mohawk Indian and moved low to the ground like the predator he was trained to be. But she wasn't afraid of him nor was he afraid of her.

"Thank you." Connor said quietly.

"My pleasure… If you're ever in New Oleans, pay me a visit." And with that she began to rise, slowly pulling away from him.

That was it… She was leaving. Connor suddenly felt he couldn't just let her go. He _wouldn't_. He panicked and swiftly pulled her to him, knocking her off balance and onto her knees.

"Connor, what-"

Aveline wasn't able to finish her sentence after being pulled down, and forcefully ensnared by a kiss. His lips moved over hers in a heated maelstrom of passion, before trailing from her jaw, to her mocha colored neck. Without skipping a beat or stopping to ask why her comrade had begun to ravage her throat, Aveline pushed his back to the ground and threw one of her legs over his hips to straddle him.

Connor was taken aback at first, in fact he half expected to be slapped rather than have her participate. He smirked and leaned forward to once again work his mouth over her neck. She was so beautiful, dark, feisty, and strong willed and oh… He couldn't wait to get her under him.

Suddenly he pulled away. After hearing the _snaps_ of leather and the _chink_ of his buckles, he looked down to see Aveline working at his straps, frantically trying to open his cloak.

He smirked at her.

"Did you want to have some fun, hellcat?"

She glanced at him, her hands slowing against the ties of his attire and pushed him down once more to where he was resting on his elbows, allowing the final snap to fall loose and reveal his tanned, muscular chest. "I _always_ want to have fun." She smirked, set her hat to the side and pitched towards him, pressing her lips against his and tangling their fingers together. And somewhere between a kiss and minute, their clothes had been discarded and gracelessly piled atop one another.

* * *

At some point during their fray, Aveline had been flipped onto her back moments before he violently settled the weight of his hips between her thighs, positioning himself at her entrance. Then, he grasped roughly onto her thigh with one hand and impatiently forced himself into her with the other, as an extended, guttural, moan ripped from his throat as if it had been shoved from his lungs. She was surprised at first, Connor Kenway, the assassin and warrior she knew to be stoic, quiet, and patient, was actually nothing of the sort in a situation such as this. She saw him as a predator on the battlefield and now in bed.

She placed her hands on the small of his back, savoring the way the muscles moved under his skin in time with his thrusts, and listened carefully to the way he murmured in Mohawk, in his language, against the soft skin of her neck. It didn't matter that she didn't know what he was saying… The only thing that mattered was the way her stomach flipped at the sound of his deep, husky voice, as he praised her with his native jargon.

Connor wasn't in control anymore, but since Aveline didn't seem to mind, what with the way she was moaning his name and pushing up against him in order to make _his_ rhythm, _their_ rhythm; he didn't see an immediate need to regain himself. He was so absorbed in the hellcat below him that the only thing he could concentrate on was how tight she felt as she gripped him between thrusts. He was only pulled back from his pleasure, induced, trance, after feeling her fingers stab into his back as they dragged along the skin. He winced, feeling the warmth of his blood, as she had clawed bits of flesh away from him but it wasn't important. The way she moved against him was enough to make up for any pain she inflicted. It was a small price to pay for something so gratifying.

He grunted a bit through pleasure and pain after Aveline bit down on his shoulder, not too hard, but with enough force for Connor to feel slight discomfort – enough force to make him curse in Mohawk. His thrusting increased and he lowered his head to capture her lips in another kiss before moving to nibble her ear, not failing to notice how she began to tighten around him.

Hooking both his hands under her backside, he lifted her a bit, angling deeper, forcing her voice to amplify every time he drove into her. Connor's jaw tightened, listening to her moan – watching her neck crane back against the dirt as she arched into him with her eyes clenched shut. She was close and he slowed, smirking at her as she whined in protest, bucking against his pelvis to urge him to increase his speed.

"Conn-Connor, please."

"Please what?"

"I want-!"

"Do you want to cum around me?"

"Yes." She replied as she opened her eyes, warm, brown, stare meeting his calm, russet, gaze.

Aveline gripped his tanned shoulders, holding onto him for purchase her nails scraping at his skin yet again, and biting her bottom lip to hold in the oncoming hurricane of fervor.

"Let me hear you." He whispered as he pulled out only to push back in.

Connor plunged, once, twice, three more times before Aveline let go – Her thighs tightened around his waist with enough vigor to still him in place, lips parted as she called to him, and her back arched, pushing her breasts into his face, allowing him to take one of her dusky nipples into his mouth. Herpleasure lasted for a few extended seconds before she slumped into the dirt below him, exhausted.

But, it was his turn now. One of Connor's arms snaked its way around her back and pulled her to him before he buried his head into the crook of her neck, holding her close, and breathing hard against her neck with an incensed passion.

"I'm going to fill you." He grunted as he continued rutting into her like an animal.

Aveline's hands fisted into his long dark hair and pulled, forcing his head back so that she could begin to suckle the spot between his neck and his jaw. Then he was cumming. His hot seed spilled into her as he grunted her name along with a few words in Mohawk before he drooped over her, the last of his strength fleeting, as he rested his head on her chest to listen to her heartbeat.

* * *

Connor laid there quietly, surveying Aveline as she began to re-knitted her corset. Next came her weapons, then her fitted trousers, and lastly, he watched as she slipped on her boots. She was going to leave – disappear into the night and never return to Mohawk Valley.

As she inspected her surrounding for the missing piece to her attire, her hat, Connor stood and closed the distance between them, "Are you looking for this?"

She turned to him and smirked after seeing the cap in his hands. He earned a slight chuckle after he placed it atop Aveline's head, shrouding her eyes. "Thank you…"

"Are you still going to New Orleans, hellcat?" He asked.

"I am."

"Can I change your mind?"

"It's my home…"

"Then, I'll come with you."

Fixing her hat she smiled at him, "You and I are a rare breed, Connor. We rise, where other's fall… Finish your search for Lee. I'll be waiting in New Orleans when you've succeeded."

"I _will_ come for you." He told her as she placed a chaste kiss on the hinge of his jaw, the only place she could reach.

"I look forward to it... Je t'aime." She replied, walking into the darkness of the trees.

"O:nen ki' wahi, Aveline. Konnorónhkwa."

* * *

Wahhh I'm so embarrassed! Okay, I need to breath. There are much dirtier fics out there than this one.

I felt the scene was rushed but, it's a oneshot… reviews? Be nice? I honestly don't think this is that great because honestly this stuff embarrasses me to no end and I feel awkward writing it! But practice makes perfect! Also, I wanted to keep it classy and not get too smutty. But, it _was_ my first lemon and assassin's creed fic, soooo yeah.

**FRENCHIES!**

Audieu – farewell

Jusqu'à notre prochaine rencontre – Until we meet again.

Absursite – Nonsense

Je t'aime – I love you

**MOHAW****KER****S!**

O:nen ki' wahi – Goodbye

Konnorónhkwa – Extreme love or a.k.a I love you

++To those reading Resolution and Honor++ I'm still doing working on it so don't freak out if you see _this_! I plan to upload on that one before thanksgiving, if all goes well.


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